Heavy Accents and Swollen Ankles
by jonasnightingale
Summary: Carisi / Rollins drabbles.
1. Chapter 1

Nothing had changed. And yet it had. There was a new glint to his eyes, a perpetual wariness that shone through, and small things that were easy enough to pretend meant nothing. Like the desk drawer stocked with ginger ales. Or the peppermint tea he'd pretend was coffee. They didn't really speak about it, but suddenly he was checking she ate throughout the day, stocking mouth-wash in the squad car. But nothing really changed; there was no new hesitance in trusting her ability, no new doubting her judgement. The team existed the same as always, and if his hand occasionally fell towards her lower back, no one noticed.

It was harder than she'd expected, going home every night to a cold and empty apartment and wondering how a little human could ever fit into her world. But no one pushed her for answers, and the occasional "you got this" from Finn and "we're here, for whatever" from Carisi were almost enough to allay her fears.


	2. Chapter 2

He stands in the doorway, just looking at her a beat before his manners kick in and he's opening the door wide and ushering her in. It's past midnight and he's dressed in tracksuit pants and a casual tee, his hair ungelled and hands stained with rogue pen streaks. "Is, uh, is everything okay? Did… did something happen?" She's silent as she takes in his apartment, the text books strewn across every bench, the smiling photos of Bella and a little toddler proudly displayed upon the wall. Until suddenly he's beside her, hand gently cupping his elbow and head bowing to catch her eyes with a softer "Hey, 'manda. You alright?" She lets out a little smile with a breathed "yeah" and hands him the coffee she'd brought with her. "Yeah, you, uh, you didn't answer your phone. We caught a case, and Liv's sitters out of town, and" He cuts her off with a nod of the head and a hurried "Just give me two minutes, I'll chuck on a suit. Make yourself at home."

She's thumbing through his vast library and glancing at the sticky notes hanging around the small apartment as he prepares, shouting questions out to her from the adjoining room. He leans out from the doorway, buttoning his shirt as he fiddles with his phone, throwing an embarrassed look her way as he mutters about leaving the damn thing on airplane mode again. And she's struck by how easy she feels here in this apartment.

"Alright, Rollins, I'm all set." He offers a hand to help pull her up from the deep couch and she can't help the smile that slips onto her face.

"You got it, Willow Rosenberg." Carisi coughs out a chuckle as he holds the door open and grabs his coat.

"I'll take that as a compliment, thank you very much. Willow's a rock star."


	3. Chapter 3

She catches herself sometimes, eyes following the slope of his hunched shoulders. She tells herself that he's her partner and that's reason enough to discern the deepening circles beneath his eyes or the bloodied quicks of his fingers.

It's something about how he looks at her, how he treats her. Like an equal, a _person_. He doesn't jump in to protect her all the time, doesn't assume that as a male he is somehow stronger or more capable. She watches his hands as he gestures wildly and knows that those hands would never hurt her, that she could never push him so hard that he would swing back.

And it's perhaps the first time that she's been drawn to something other than power and strength and authority. Maybe she's growing as a person. Or maybe she's seen too many wives and children of those type of men sitting on the other side of her desk.

She's not asking anything of him, not even sure that she wants anything of him, but there's nights that find them sitting at Hal's Diner, sharing a plate of choc-chip pancakes – his head stuck in a text book and hers muddling through preschool applications and nanny recommendations – that have her mind wandering to dangerous territory.

But then there's the days when Bella drops by the precinct with boxes of second-hand baby clothes for her, the days when Sonny wraps his arms around his niece with a big smile. And she's so scared that she would infect that. Because he is bright and full of potential, and she is dark and broken.

So she pulls back, she spends nights wrapped around Frannie and letting Finn's words of wisdom halt her fingers from inching towards her phone. "You can't take anyone _from_ this job home with you."


	4. Chapter 4

One moment she's facing a boy with a handgun and the next she's dropping to her knees as Carisi moans on the floor before her. The idiot took a freaking bullet for her. For a minute she is filled with indignant fury at the masochistic chivalry intrinsic in that action, but as she watches him pull off the vest and sees the already purpling impact upon his lower ribs she's rocked by a totally different sensation. He brushes it off as nothing, pulling his shirt back down quickly with an almost unnoticed glance to her stomach. As Finn hauls the perp away he shouts out a "might be time to consider that desk duty, Rollins, before Carisi does himself more harm trying to save yo ass".

Her finger's pressed the stop button before she's fully thought it through and Carisi turns to her with an upturned brow. It's been a long day and between the work and the hormones she's a little more emotional than usual. Or at least that's what she tells herself as she crosses the elevator and reaches up, arms wrapping tightly around the stunned man. She's careful to avoid his ribs but he winces all the same as he slowly brings his hands up to her back. She mumbles a rough "Thank you, Sonny" into his ear and feels the quick quirk of his lip before he rustles out a forcibly flippant "Any time".

She feels the tiny flutter of a heartbeat against her fingers, a heartbeat that could all too easily have failed today beneath the force of a bullet. And she imagines the family this child will be born into – a family that's rough and mismatched but that will always throw themselves in front of danger to protect each other. She imagines Christmases with loud Staten Island accents and slurred Spanish nursery rhymes, and suddenly the fear in the pit of her stomach curls into excitement. She won't be alone, _they_ won't be alone.


	5. Chapter 5

She doesn't notice how much things have really changed until Nick walks back in those doors. It's not the new waddle to her walk or the tan peaking out from his collar, but there is something new in the air around them. Maybe it's a result of watching Carisi with the new "new guy", feeling guilty for how she treated him as a rookie, or maybe it's the now established bond between herself and the tall blonde, but when Nick makes a crack at Carisi's expense she feels something akin to anger. She attempts a half-hearted smile his way and bites her tongue. And that night she lays awake and plays through all the times she tore down Carisi, and all the times he still bothered to build her up.

Then one day he makes the self-deprecating comment of "guess I'm still that 'work in progress' hey" and she can recall just how devastated his eyes had been when she referred to him like that. So she tries to make amends by calling his attention and offering a "No, Carisi, you're… you're… good." It's lame and unbelievably awkward but the boy's eyes light up and he smiles at her with a rough thank you. She waits til he walks away before throwing her pen at the chuckling Finn watching from the coffee pot.


	6. Chapter 6

The hesitant knock on her door is unexpected and she catches her hand half way to her holster. The blood is still on her floor and one of Kim's jumpers lays discarded on the couch. She no longer feels safe in these four walls. But her mother pulls open the door with a warm welcome and Rollins is sure she didn't even bother to look through the peep-hole before unlocking the chain.

He's standing just inside the doorway, like he's afraid to intrude, and she realises that today was the first time he'd been here. His eye's catch hers and they're a shade she didn't get to often see – bashful, unsure. He holds up the bucket he brought with him, gesturing vaguely in the direction of her lounge. And she tries so hard to ignore her mothers hand on his arm, the look on her face that is both approving and daring, as if judging her for finding this man and not making him hers. She wonders if she'll look at her child the same way.

Carisi's shirts rolled up to his elbows and the top buttons are undone, his hands are covered in ridiculous yellow cleaning gloves and he has a dust mask loose around his neck. He's already gone on a rant about all the diseases that may be transmitted through contact with anothers blood, but he shut up at her insistence that she didn't ask him to do this. They end up throwing out the rug.

She offers him a non-alcoholic beer and they sit with Frannie at their feet, his eyes cataloguing the inside of her apartment. She can see him thinking, like he's trying to formulate the right thing to say. But she's content with their silence, the subtle camaraderie she had learned to associate with him.

Its as he's leaving that he finally indulges the words, as he fiddles with the neck of his coat and offers her a "You _have_ family." Again, he looks like he wants to say more, elaborate, but he rubs the back of his neck and holds his tongue. "Alright, g'night Rollins."


	7. Chapter 7

He's been standing in this stupid store for almost an hour. The clerks keep throwing amused glances his way and make sure to check on him every ten minutes or so to offer assistance. But he's still at a total loss. It shouldn't be this hard to buy a freaking present for a baby shower, it's not like the kids going to know if the present sucks or not, but he wants it to be good. He had his mind set on a simple teddy bear at first, but they all looked creepy with their sewn on eyes. Then he considered a pram, but geez those were pricey. He was great with kids, but this here, trying to find the appropriate gift, not his forte. He wanted this gift to be nonchalant, like he could pretend he'd just swung by the shops and grabbed it on his way; but he also wanted it to be useful to Rollins because she has a hard enough road ahead of her. And it was just an awful lot of message for a present.

Groaning with frustration he pulls his phone out and makes the one call he really didn't want to.

Bella's there in twenty minutes with an asleep Teddy strapped to her front. She doesn't say anything but he can see the glee in her eyes and the barely contained grin. They do another lap and one of the shop attendants actually starts giggling at them, before Bella hands a box into his hands with a decisive nod. He's not sure, it seems far too practical and not at all blasé but, heck, he's not the one with the kid, what does he know. So he chooses the wrapping paper and gets the attendant to gift wrap it and pretends to ignore the amusement clear in everyones faces.


	8. Chapter 8

It started innocently enough; a glance her way when the perps became too much, a game of counting the "you weren't interrupting". Eventually it morphed into a quiet friendship; pancakes late at night, shared umbrellas. And before he knows it he's tearing out of a lecture on a Tuesday night and running half-way across the city. Finns already there and chuckles at the dishevelled blonde, who has succeeded in running into a pamphlet display and is clutching a Fordham Law gift shop bag to his chest. There's no news.

Six hours later and still no news. When he manages to get the attention of a nurse they simply chirp out a "she's doing fine" or a "these things take time", always walking away with a "we'll let you know". Liv's nestled deep in her chair, eyes hooded, holding her coffee like a lifeline. Finn's perched on the edge of his seat, chugging the coffee and feigning nonchalance. They both keep throwing glances at him as he continues to pace the waiting room.

His phone has buzzed a few times – concerned classmates, a worried lecturer – but his fingers are shaking too much to bother replying. The seven year old Dominick is back in his head; the little boy so eager to know how to look after his to-be sister that he snuck into the adults section of the local library only to read about the worst case scenarios, the little boy who later stood in the waiting room as doctors rushed in and out of his mothers room covered in blood and talking in hushed tones. And he's so so scared. Because he cares for this woman in a way that he has not even begun to dissect yet, and the father of her child is currently on a red-eye flight over the middle of some ocean, and her mother is restraining herself from getting on a bus, and her life cannot be over like this.

There's a nurse heading straight for him. And suddenly he's not pacing anymore, he's not moving at all, in fact he's not entirely sure he's breathing. But her smile is kind and her pink scrubs are clean and she looks straight at him as she begins. It takes Finns rough hand on his shoulder to get him moving as Liv hands him the bags he'd unceremoniously dropped to the ground upon arrival. They enter as a family.

His eyes catalogue every visible inch of her, inspect every number on the monitors, before dropping to the little bundle of blue in her arms. They're okay. Finn wraps a hand around her head and plants a gruff kiss upon her hair as his fingers go to inspect the new squad member. Olivia leans over the man to give a soft hug and a gleaming "he's so beautiful". There's a phone call from Barba who didn't want to impose but is so glad they're all alright and offers a sincere congratulations. And then her eyes catch his and he's not just observing anymore, he's part of the moving picture, part of the family. So he brushes a soft kiss across her cheek and pulls the teddy-bear from his bag, placing it gently beside the sleeping baby. He offers an awkward "I was at school when I heard and it was the only thing the Merch Shop really had…" She halts his explanation with a fond smile.

By the time Declan arrives they're all half passed out across her hospital bed, occasionally swapping the kid around and taking turns whispering to the sleeping babe. He's heard the stories, knows second-hand that this man is good, but he can still only picture the UC pimp pistol-whipping him. His hesitance fades at the smile on the mans face, the gentleness with which he takes hold of his son.

That doesn't stop Carisi from going home, taking a shower, getting changed, then heading straight back to the hospital. He sleeps in the waiting room.

When Barba drops by the next day he makes a big fuss about the Fordham Law bear the child has latched onto. He's still hesitant to hold the boy but he squeezes Amanda's hand and shakes Declan's. And a week later he walks into the squad room with a box to be passed along to the new mother. In it is an infants Harvard onesie.


	9. Chapter 9

His steps were heavy as he turned into his building, the twitch of his body subsided to a dull exhaustion. There was an urge to call his mother, his sisters, everyone he loves, just to hear their voices, but he couldn't bear the emotional weight of that tonight.

He wasn't expecting her, leant against his door with a curtain of hair covering her face. His shoes scuffed on the floor and her head snapped towards him. There was a short smile on her face that didn't reach her eyes and had he not spent years learning to read the every turn of her neck and curve of her mouth he may have missed the emotions cycling across her face. Neither of them moved for a beat, two beats, three, how do you move from that? How do you face each other after a day like that? Smooth metal to his temple, warm blood across his face. The neighbours door pulled him out of it, prompting a step toward her - one foot after another. That she made the first move surprised them both but her arms were tight around his drawn shoulders, her nose nuzzled into the crook of his neck with sharp breaths. He didn't hesitate, another surprise. He grabbed at her desperately, hands clenching onto her, whole body bending into her. A huff at the absurdity of the moment changed its mind half way out and turned into a strangled sob. Whole minutes passed. He retracted slightly with a gruff hand rushed under his eyes. "Where's Jessie?" She didn't answer, just grazed a hand down his flushed cheek.

Dodd's death was too recent upon them, the wound too fresh, the grief too exposed. When she lets out her breath she hates the unevenness of it. Her fingers brush through his hair, eyes steadfast on the spot that had been stained red just hours ago. "God, Dominick.."

He wants to kiss her. It's an urge not entirely unfamiliar to him, he's learning to live with the ghost of it as it appears throughout their days. But on days like today where her eyes are pricked red and his throat is raw, it takes all his willpower to not crane his neck down and draw her to him. He thinks he could love this woman, with her spine of steel and her southern drawl, could spend a lifetime cooking dinner and watching atrocious television with her.

Tonight though he just roughs out a "Drink?" and relishes in the knowledge that he is still here to offer, that she is here to accept.


	10. Chapter 10

He's not expecting them, here, outside the courthouse, today. But he walks out to see Amanda lounging against a pillar thumbing her phone and sipping coffee as little Jesse dozes in the stroller beside her. She glances up as he approaches and pockets her phone with a smile, handing him the other cup of coffee as he crouches down to give Jesse a little peck on the cheek. "How'd it go?" She's made it no secret that she's not a fan of his legal aspirations, so he quirks a brow at her and counters "What happened to 'you're a cop with me'? You really wanna know?" Their feet start moving instinctively their normal route back to her place as she replies a simple "I'm here aren't I?"

He's mid-way through a rant about the ambiguity of rape custody precedent when she turns to him suddenly "I do support you… you'd make a great ADA. Just, well, breaking in a new partner is such a pain. And you know, Jesse loves you. I don't want to even think about explaining to her no more Uncle Sonny spaghetti nights. So it's just easier to.. not." He actually stops walking as he pointedly raises a hand to emphasis his statement, "Look, no matter where I end up, there is no stopping spaghetti night." He glances at the little bundle still asleep in her stroller and back at her slightly rosy mother looking at him with hopeful eyes, "You two aren't getting rid of me that easy."


	11. Chapter 11

It's all going so well, their easy camaraderie spilling over into so many nights in front of reality tv and weekends at the park. There's all the shared laughs over his cooking and the thousands of photos on his fancy new camera. There's law books abandoned on her kitchen counter and Jesse's toys down his couch cushions. And it's simple, and maybe close to perfect. Until it isn't.

Until one morning when suddenly her digs are a little too harsh and the dinner invites stop coming. Their work is as slick as ever but she refuses to meet his eye and he notices Fin following their interactions discreetly. Every time his phone buzzes, "Rollins" flashing on the screen, he feels a moment of hope, quickly dashed when he notices the "Kim" where the "Amanda" should be.

He watches her over his coffee cup and acknowledges the strange weight in his gut; he misses her. He misses Jesse, and Frannie, and all the nice old ladies who comment on their "family" as they meander around on Sundays, all the nice old ladies they are too polite to correct, all the comments they blush and pretend to mishear.

...

Kim has been texting him non-stop for days and his desperation for insight into their little world spills out into their messages. It all comes to a boil one night at the little pub behind the precinct. Kim's there, thought she would surprise her sister apparently, though she's avoiding Fin like the plague and her hand on Carisi's arm says otherwise. Not that he notices. He's watching the door, waiting for that tell-tale streak of blonde.

And he catches it. She's barely a step in when her eyes find his, and he can see them catalogue his askew tie and ruffled hair with a fond quirk of the lips before her face shuts down again. Fin's discarded his beer, making his way quickly to her in anticipation, the only one aware of impending disaster. And that's the moment, as Amanda glances from Fin back to Carisi that she notices the girl standing just a little too close to him, the girl with matching hair to hers and a jumper right out of her closet.

He can't name the expression on her face, he's not sure he'd ever want to, but as she turns quickly on her heel he catches the new draw in her shoulders and the momentary wordless exchange between the new Sergeant and herself. He feels rather than hears the door slam behind her.

But he loves her, in some way he has not begun to dissect, so of course he is chasing her down the alley, calling out her name. And her agitated hands flying around her are not lost on him, the pace in her gait as she imposes and withdraws around him. He doesn't get any explanations but when she leaves with an exhausted "damn it Sonny", he knows that somehow this is on him.

...

It's Fin in the end who comes clean, or rather who hands him a sealed case file with a "you didn't get this from me" and disappears into the night. The pieces start to fall together, and every reluctance of hers he's ever fought about her sister suddenly seems a gross disloyalty.

When he shows up at her apartment he can only muster a humble "I didn't know", which she counters with a quiet "I didn't tell you". She pushes the door opened further for him.


	12. Chapter 12

"Just because you haven't had a date in two years, Rollins, doesn't mean we've all joined the nunnery."

"Oh screw you Carisi. And that's working out sooo well for you? What you moved on from miss 34B raw foods to what? Some hipster instagram model who does soul cycle and only drinks kale smoothies? Real score there."

"Hey, at least I'm putting myself out there. You sit at home with your dumb reality tv shows and pretend that Jesse doesn't need a male presence in her life. Well ya know what, Rollins, that's bull. That's how half these stories start! No father figure so they turn to men who turn them out and end up in our cells or down in the morgue."

An unprecedented silence hung in the bullpen, the two detectives breathing hard as everyone in the office shrunk back from their knock-down-drag-out. Amanda was the first to move, grabbing her coat and slamming her drawer shut as she stormed from the precinct. Carisi kicked his chair as he ran a shaky hand through his hair, ignoring the long low whistle Fin was letting out from his desk. He hadn't just crossed the line, he'd catapulted head first over it.

...

It had been a week, a very long week of taciturn car trips and frigid glances. She wasn't as surprised as she wanted to be to find him at her door. The bruises under his eyes were more pronounced than ever and when he apologised the earnestness was underscored by the roughness of his voice, the catch in his tone when he spoke Jesse's name, the hand unconsciously rubbing his temple. After a beat she pushed the door open for him and walked back into the apartment. He followed. Jesse was on him in a moment, waddling over to her favourite uncle and babbling happily. As he picked up the little girl and settled her on his hip Amanda reclaimed her glass of wine. She was tired, so tired, and whatever pretence or fight she usually put up was gone.

"You know what Sonny, I never really thought of it as Jesse lacking a paternal figure. Not just because, I mean this _is_ 2017\. But, well, I thought she had you. I mean," and at this she started checking off on her finger, "you take her to the playground every Saturday morning, you make her spaghetti every Tuesday night, you're at every dance recital, you know her swim school teachers by name, hell half the parents we come across assume she's your kid. And I'm not saying that I… that that's what this is, I'm just saying, that well, she didn't need another Dad, because she had you as this epic male figure."

Once again they were left standing in silence, staring at each other. But this time he was the first to move. Placing Jesse back down he moved to Amanda's side in two quick strides. "You do have me. 'Manda, hey, look at me, I'm not going anywhere. And you bet your ass I'm gonna be here as the best-faux-father figure Jesse's ever seen. Starting with not giving her Mom crap for her love life choices. And maybe not picking up girls at Wholefoods." At Amanda's chuckle Sonny wrapped his arms around the blonde. "I love you girls and I'll be whatever you need me to be." He didn't comment on the subtle brush of a sleeve under her eyes as she relaxed against him, "You can start by being less of an ass, Carisi."


	13. Chapter 13

She'd been standing in the hallway for too long - the nurses were throwing her concerned looks, she knew. But she didn't know what exactly she was supposed to do. All she could think in that moment was that she needed Carisi there, he was always good in a crisis.


End file.
